Page 63 of Bolted

“Sebastian?” I ask. “I thought you said Corrine and Xavier were already here.”

“Come with me,” he says, and walks away from me to a lone table at the edge of the rooftop. There’s bouquets of flowers surrounding the table, clustered into beautiful gold vases, and arranged in the shape of a heart. This is getting more and more unusual.

“Remember when you said that flowers are a surprise? That dinner was a surprise?”

“Yes…” I say, confused. “But this doesn’t seem like your style.” I smile up at him, realizing he’s made it his style because it’s what I’d asked for.

“Sit down little mouse.” He pulls out a chair and hands me a glass of waiting champagne. I sit, taking a sip, and wait as he gestures to a waiter who seems to materialize out of thin air. Then he pulls out his chair and sits.

“Riley.”

“Sebastian?”

“This has been the best fucking year of my life. Not only did I get to taste the best pussy I’ve ever tasted, but I also got to fuck the shit out of you while your worthless ex watched.” I blush, looking around to make sure the waiter didn’t hear that.

“I also realized that I never want to let you out of my sight. Or my bed. I want every part of you Riley. I want your body, yes. But I also want your soul and your heart, for the rest of time.”

I am staring, practically open mouthed. Is he doing what I think he’s doing? Before I respond, the waiter appears again, flourishing beautiful plates full of hors d'oeuvres. Caviar, scallops, baked brie, literally everything fancy one imagines when they think of a nice restaurant.

“This is too nice,” I begin to say. “You know you don’t have to do all this.” He glares at me, but I continue. “You don’t have to surprise me, or wine and dine me. Because I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, since the moment I saw you in the office.”

“Then let’s make it official, Riley.” He grabs my hand and pulls me off my chair and over to the railing. He leans in close behind me and I smell his scent, musky and warm. He runs his hand over my ass and then his hands disappear. I’m left wanting, so wrapped up in the moment and the beauty of our surroundings, that I just want his hands on me again. I turn around, wondering why he stopped.

“Marry me.” He doesn’t ask, he just states it. Then he grabs my hand and slides the most gorgeous diamond I’ve ever seen onto my ring finger.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, always.”

He growls then, spinning me back around so my body faces the city, and he lifts up my skirt. “Sebastian!” I yelp, thinking of the waiter-in-hiding somewhere on the rooftop with us.

“Little mouse, you know you’re ready for me.” He slips two fingers in me from behind, finding me wet once again. Then he’s unzipping his pants, bending me over ever so slightly, so I’m flush against the railing, as he thrusts inside me.

“Oh god,” I murmur. “I love you.”

“You’re mine baby,” he says, and reaches one hand around to rub my clit. The intensity is too much and I have to grind myself into his hand, chasing the need.

“Come for me Riley,” he says. I hear his breath getting labored, and his speed picks up. One, two, three more thrusts and then he’s shouting in my ear. “Now!”

I explode, my orgasm shuddering through me, pushing back into his body while I try to hold myself up on the rail and ride out the wave. He pulls out and pulls me upright against his front. “Good girl,” he says, and I feel his breath on my ear. “Now get ready to celebrate.”

Pulling down my dress, I’m barely standing upright before I hear the sound of the elevator door opening. Corrine, Xavier, Jonathan, Jamison, Andre, and Kaz all pile out.

“Surprise!” Kaz shouts, and immediately wraps me in a hug. I’m speechless, it’s all happened so quickly, yet it’s exactly what I want.

“Don’t get too close guys,” Sebastian smiles and grabs his champagne. “She’s spoken for. And I don’t share.”

Everyone laughs and we all clink our glasses in a toast.

“To the future Mr. and Mrs. Bolt.”

Epilogue

Xavier

Three months later

“Can you keep it in your pants until you’re in the car at least?” Sebastian gives me a shove on the shoulder and stands back as I round the car to open the door for Corrine.

“You newlyweds are the ones who need to keep it in your pants,” Corrine says, laughing. “I’m not sure the resort will let another round of ‘sex in the hot tub’ fly, just because you practically own the place.”

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